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COPYRIGHT DEPOSnV 



RAINBOW GOLD 



AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 



MURIEL KINNEY 




BOSTON: RICHARD G. BADGER 

THE GORHAM PRESS 

1915 



Copyright, 1915, by Muriel Kinney 



All Rights Reserved 



S%^ 






The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. 



4i^ 

JAN !' Ib'lo 



CI.A420373 

'Ho. I 



^ To 

'^''"^ all the angels 

this book is lovingly 
and reverently dedicated. 



CONTENTS 

My Gift to Thee 9 

My Soul and 1 11 

Our Earth Refrain 13 

After-Glow 14 

Marianne 15 

Ruby-Throat 17 

Human Care 18 

Beech-Tree Swings 19 

A Call to Spring 20 

My Garden of Hope 21 

Life Eternal 22 

The Song of the Old Cherry Chest 23 

Love the Winged 25 

Florence 26 

The Voice of the Blue Bird 27 

The Terns off Gay Head 28 

Ayah-Nah 29 . 

The South Shore Sea 31 

Mutter-Seelen-AUein 33 

Remember Me 36 

Heart's Homing 37 

The River Heas in Winter 39 



CONTENTS 

Good-bye 40 

In the Purple Evening 41 

Dawn 42 

Security 44 

Ebb-Tide 45 

And God Flung Out His Word to Me 46 

Sailing 47 

Little Daughter 49 

Everybody's Song 50 

Bide a Wee Thy Spirit's Waking 51 

A Child's Look Into Life 52 

A Letter 53 

Call to the Rain 54 

The Reeds of La Crau 56 

The Pinch 58 

A Ballade of Things Gone Bye 60 

Long Ago 61 

Rainbow Gold 63 



RAINBOW GOLD 



MY GIFT TO THEE 

A forest tree was I 
And thou Apollo. 
My feet grew deep, oh 
Deep in earth, but high 
My head was reaching, nigh. 
So nigh to thee and to thy sky. 
Ah, glorious thou ! 
Upon my leaves that dance 
Down falls thy living glance, 
And with that touch of thee 
Is born the soul of me 
Into far eternity 
Of life in wild-wood tree: 
Ah the mystic, wild-life melody, 
And the rapture of the wood 
When beneath thy kiss I stood ! 

I was of the sea, a mist, 

And thou Apollo. 

Ah the ways to follow 

Wheresoe'er I list! 

Deep within the caverns hollow, 

High in air among the fallow 

Cattle of thy herd, 

Till on a day. 

Thy swift, bright ray 

Shot my spray. 

And made me gay 

In crimson, green and yellow; 

And thy playing 

Through my spraying 

Caught and changed me into spirit :- 

Listen, Sweet, oh list and hear it ! 



A harp was I of old, ' 

And thou wert Apollo. 
Mute was I and hollow 
Till thy hands did hold 
And string me, 
With thy mystic soul 
In music bring me 
Into harmony: 

Didst the forest's old-time singing. 
And the ancient, deep-sea's ringing 
Waken once more in my spirit: — 
Deep within thee, dost not hear it? 
Thou heldest me thy beating heart so near, 
Struck my chords, all tense and taut with fear, 
Brought forth music from the soul of me 
Consecrate to thee through all eternity. 

Joy and wonder of the wood, 
Depth and tumult of the sea, 
(And its deep serenity), 
Of them both the mystery, 
Bring I, love, to thee. 
Wrapped within my womanhood. 
Listen, dear, and thou shalt hear 
Music hid by thee 
In the soul of me 
Since that far eternity. 
When thy heart so near 
Thou heldest me, 
Tuning wonderly. 
With thee in harmony, 
All my spirit-hood 
Fetched from heaven, sea and wood. 



lO 



MY SOUL AND I 

(To My Soul) 

Oh soul, my soul, why didst thou bring just me 
To company thy servitude to Time? 
Thou voyager from vast eternity 
Oh, how hadst thou the stern temerity 
To bring this helpless me with whom to climb 
The steeps of human life, and, I with thee, 
To strive and win thine immortality? 
Was there no other, oh thou soul sublime? 

Naught but an entity of suffering 
Am I. My feet how faltering, how slow! 
I am not clothed to bear the buffeting 
Of crowded ways, nor cold of mountains tall. 
Oh how thou tuggest while I faint and fall! 
Let be! I cannot climb where thou wouldst go! 



H 



(My Soul To Me) ' 

Oh self, myself, why dost thou me ensnare 
With impotencies? Clippest thou my wings 
To spare thy bleeding feet? All spirit things 
Need freedom. On the cruel, narrow stair 
Of thine endeavor dies my famished song, 
Which else had borne thee to the heights unwearied, 
Which else had borne for thee by waj^s so serried 
The buffets and the scorn, and hushed all wrong. 

Let be, oh weary one, for we must go 
Rejoicing in God's freedom, hand in hand ; 
With song and gladness let us win our way 
O'er stormy seas, o'er rocks and desert land. 
Through mocking crowds we'll sing our sweetest 

lay ; 
With joys divine we'll take the sting from woe. 



12 



OUR EARTH REFRAIN 

If God, upon his throne above, bend low 
Our mighty heart-strung orchestra to hear, 
All keyed to spirit music, must his ear 
Beware, as forth the pulsing pain-waves flow, 
Of anguish infinite ; and listening so 
His father heart, compact with sympathy, 
Must feel of pain and love infinity: — 
Our Father, listening with his heart keyed so! 

For multitudinous on earth below 
The heart-lyres, minor-strung and sensitive, 
Still played upon by all the winds that blow, 
And struck by heedless fingers punitive: 
'Twould seem e'en God's great heart to break were 

fain. 
Touched by the anguish in our earth-refrain. 



13 



AFTER-GLOW 

Lord of heaven, hear my prayer ! 
When my spirit standeth there 
Where to life the portals open, 
And the call, ''come forth" is spoken, 
When I leave this life of seeming 
May it be by star-light's gleaming. 
Lord of vastness, hear my prayer! 

Lord of music, list my praying: — 
I v^ould go vv^hile v^^inds are playing 
Symphonies upon the growing 
Leaves of trees and blossoms glowing, 
Seeming like the angels singing 
Come to waft me by their winging 
To the Lord who answers prayer. 

Lord of glory, I implore Thee, 
Let not weeping sound before Thee, 
Let a glow like that of evening 
Bright'ning all the world of seeming, 
Pass into the hearts that love me, — 
After-glow of love above me, — 
As I leave, oh Lord of Prayer! 



14 



MARIANNE 

Up the winding, steep ascent 

Sings Marianne. 
She will not heed her heart's lament, 

My Marianne! 

Joyously she seems to climb, 

Sweet Marianne! 
Singing, meanwhile, songs divine, 

Brave Marianne! 

Caroling beneath her load 

Goes Marianne, 
Spurning still her need's sharp goad, 

Fair Marianne! 

Ever before her she sees a bright gleam. 
Caught from some far-away, fanciful dream, 
A something that cheers her and makes her glad, — 
Is it illusion? Sweet child are you mad? 
Always to follow, to follow and sing, 
To follow so fondly a flickering thing, 
A will-o-the-wisp, a phantom, a ray, — 
Why is it, Marianne? Tell me I pray. 

Sweet Marianne pauses, I look in her eyes. 
The light in their depths she has caught from the 

skies ; 
But the pain underneath tells the price she must pay 
For the joy in her voice as she sings her sweet lay. 
Now I see and I know all the joy-song has cost, — 



15 



The wounds on her feet count the dear things ^he's 

lost 
For the labor of loving and bearing her load, 
For singing so joyously, spite of the goad. 
Which urges and spurs her along on the way. 
Ascend, oh my Marianne, follow your ray! 
Beyond the sharp rocks is the sky so blue 
I pray you may find there your wishes come true. 

Still a-winding up the way 

Goes Marianne, 
Caroling her wondrous lay. 

Sprite Marianne! 

Her rippling song she flings aloft 

(Ah, Marianne!) 
While wishing death, ay, sad and oft! 

Sweet Marianne! 

Ah, sing forever, Marianne! 

Sing away! 
Heaven must yield, oh Marianne, 

To thy lay ! 



i6 



RUBY-THROAT 

(To G. W, K.) 

There was a sacred room where as a child 
I hushed my step and muffled soft my voice, — 
A place where ever silence might rejoice: 
Its windows gave upon a tangle wild 
Of grape and apple, linden screens beyond 
Shut in this sanctuary to the mild. 
Firm goddess of the mind, thy early choice, 
To whom was dedicate this room so fond; 

But once a troop of us were summoned there 
To see a wondrous, tiny, pulsing thing, — 
A ruby set in plumes of emerald, — 
Which in thy gentle brother-hand was held. 
'Twas like the glow of Love's deep flame a-wing 
Intruding on Athene's limpid air. 



17 



HUMAN CARE 

{To McD. M. K.) 

Oh blissful moment when from childish play 
Thy two strong arms would seize and toss me high 
So very far above thee, — very nigh 
To heaven seeming! Then my arms I'd lay 
About thy neck ; and oh, the bliss to stay 
Sheltered there from insubstantial air 
A moment, in the blest security 
Of loving arms, — of happy human care ! 

But rarer joy when from eternity 
Thy spirit bendeth low to me in pain, 
To seize and bear my spirit far amain 
Upon the purple-scented rarity 
Of insubstantial dreams, where love is fain 
To wash away all hurt of human care. 



i8 



BEECH-TREE SWINGS 

(To C. B. K.) 

When we were children, brother, you and I, 
We used to wander through the leafy wood 
To where some giant beech-tree stately stood 
To sweep with silvery branches earth and sky; 
Ah me, how deft thy boyish fingers ply 
To weave a fairy swing of suppleness 
In which to toss thy little sister high 
Rejoicing in her gleeful happiness; 

But now our beech-tree swings are of the past, 
Dear childhood days have vanished quite away. 
We may not ask that things so sweet should last, 
Nor that our lives should all be merry play ; 
And yet, I would Time's sand fell not so fast 
To hide the things we love so deep away. 



19 



A CALL TO SPRING 

The long gray line of the winter sky 
Changes to a purple mist; 
For spring's sweet spirit broods the earth, 
Broods the forest, sunshine kissed, 
Snowflake-bathed, frost-bespangled, — 
In winter's bands so fast entangled 
Only sweet Persephone 
Can his mighty forces free, — 
Set great forest's heart a-beating, 
(Beats each tiny heart's repeating) 
With love's dear message to the world. 

So we stand as did Demeter, 
Hearts all glowing-glad to greet her. 
Dearest, sweet Persephone! 
"Come," we call, "oh come to me! 
Bring the things of early springtime. 
Buds and blossoms, wild-birds' wing time, 
Purple mist and rain-drop's sparkle, 
Throstle's pipe where pine trees darkle. 
Perfumes sifting through the lifting 
Airs of Zephyrs, — richly gifting 
Me. Ah, come, Persephone!" 



20 



MY GARDEN OF HOPE 

In my garden, my garden of delight, 
In my dreaming, my dreaming of the night, 
Still the places, sweet places out of sight, 
Wide the spaces, sweet spaces full of light, 
Under starbeams, in silvery moonshine white, 
Under sunbeams, golden daytime bright. 
Grows my heart's dear treasure, my delight. 
Blood-red are its blossoms, blossoms bright! 

On my garden, my garden of delight, 
Deepest snows have fallen, cruel sight ! 
Oh, my lovely treasure, treasure bright ! 
Leaves of green have withered, withered quite, 
And the blood-red blossoms feel the blight 
Of the north-wind's blowing, and the fright 
Of the cruel fetters, fetters tight, 
Bound about my treasure, my delight! 

To my garden, my garden of delight, 
To my dreaming, my dreaming of the night, 
To the wide, sweet spaces, now so white 
Under stars and gleaming moon so bright, 
Resurrection angels, swift their flight. 
Bring the key of Easter, heavenly sight! 
See my heart's dear treasure, my delight, 
Leaf and blood-red blossoms, perfect quite! 



21 



LIFE ETERNAL 

All of my treasure I would give to thee, 

Still give thee more, 
Wealth without measure packed in the heart of me — 

Womanhood-lore ; 

Merriest laughter I would peal for thee. 

Gladness my store, 
Molten pearls wring from the soul of me, — 

From my heart's core; 

Nay, but my treasure, it is naught to thee, 

Naught is my lore, 
Of all that my love can wring out of me 

Thou keepest no store; 

Therefore forth on the seas I have cast it. 

My heart and its lore. 
Neither winds nor tides can blast it. 

Nor rains that pour, 

For Love, its life, renews, rebuilds it, 

Forevermore, 
And whenever Love so wills it, 

My bark shall shore. 



22 



THE SONG OF THE OLD CHERRY CHEST 

In the forest long ago, 
I was swaying to and fro, 
Birds were singing in my leafy top 
While their nests and nestlings I would rock. 
Swaying, swaying to and fro 
In the forest, long ago. 

In the forest in the spring. 
My enchanted robe I'd fling 
O'er my graceful, bare and perfect head. 
Green and white swift bursting from the red, — 
Growing, growing in the glow 
Of the forest, long ago. 

In the forest at my feet 
Life's quick blood was flowing fleet 
Through the mosses, ferns and creeping things, 
While above the many painted wings 
Fluttered, fluttered to and fro 
In the forest, long ago. 

In the forest, mad with joy, 
I would make the wind my toy, 
Shake his unmelodious breathing hard 
Into music. Ah, a rapturous bard 
Was I, swaying to and fro 
In the forest, long ago. 



23 



silent now, close housed I stay 
Holding, safely tucked away, 
Household linens fair, in snowy piles: — 
Oh the forest! Oh the sweetwood wiles! 
And the swaying to and fro 
In sweet air, so long ago! 

Sometimes, on a rainy day. 
When the children round me play, 
Shouting, singing, scampering of feet. 
All their merry racket sounds as sweet 
As life's pulsing, to and fro 
In the forest, long ago. 

In the forest, long ago 
How life swayed me to and fro! 
How the children of the wood-folk wild 
Called and played, e'en as a human child ! 
'Tis of life the ebb and flow 
Here and now as long ago. 



24 



LOVE THE WINGED 

(Suggested by the xxth ode in the vth book of 
Ronsard) 

Swift, oh swallow, is thy flight 
Southward; and the sea-rim bright, 
Pearling all the dark land-borders, 
Guideth thee to summer weather. 
Thee and all thy flock together. 
As thy keen eye scans the waters. 

Nay, but Love, swift-winged like thee, 
Came as thou in spring to me, — 
Love the winged still remaineth 
Nestled in my heart, 
Fleeth not tho skies be dark, 
Nestleth there tho summer waneth! 

Empty is thy nest, oh swallow, 
Thou hast left it but to follow 
Shimmer of the sea-coast bright: — 
Love, the blessed, close hath nested 
In my heart, — there hath rested 
All the days and every night ! 

To my song his wings he giveth. 
On our song my glad heart liveth, 
Song of pure delight ! 
Brightness of the sea-rim's pearling 
In our mutual song is whirling 
Over life's deep waters bright! 



35 



FLORENCE 

The swiftly flowing Arno winds about the city 
Dante loved. Her waters, turgid yellow now, 
Anon translucent green shot through with slanting 

light 
Like Miniato's marble windows on the hill, 
Fret themselves as ever at the piers of bridges 
Over which the mighty histories of bygone 
Centuries have passed, and pass again. About 
Their storied arches foaming, she sighs, and sings 

a sad 
And melancholy strain, — of love neglected, banished, 
Crime protected, crowned, and glories won for Flor- 
ence 
By the sweat of souls divine whose love still lingers 
In the surcharged air. 

Oh Florence, greatly hast thou sinned and dearly 
hast been 
Loved! Divinest suffering, most dear-wrought la- 
bors 
Made thee fair and keep thee dear! Thou memory 
Of ecstacies, dreams made permanent in stone, 
Chiselled raptures, visions tangible, thou haunt 
Of spirits banished, the very skies bend down 
To kiss thy well-loved towers, and in the silent night, 
Great Angelo again breathes low : — "Disturb me not, 
Speak softly, glad am I to sleep — a-rest in stone." 



26 



THE VOICE OF THE BLUE BIRD 

When March's windy skies are blue 
The air is vocal the whole day through 
With the voice of the bluebird. 
The voice of the bluebird sings to me 
In my inmost soul of eternity: 
"God is good to me, and to thee," 

When raging March-time winds do blow, 
Whitening the earth with driven snow. 
The soul of springtime rides the blast ' 
Whirling down, so fast, so fast. 
While soft and clear his voice wings past, 
"God is good to me, and to thee." 

The season waxes, June is here, 
Sound myriad voices far and near ;' 
But I list to hear in June's full choir 
The voice of bluebird, living lyre, 
Singing of love to his mate, so true, 
"I love, I love thee, tru-a-lou." 

But in his joy, his ecstacy. 
He rememb'reth well his early lay. 
He bethinks him still of eternity 
For he mounts on his heavenly wings to say, 
"God is good to me, and to thee, — 
God is good to me alway!" 



27 



THE TERNS OFF GAY HEAD 

Dip and dive in the purple sea, 
Skim o'er the dancing wave, 
Glorious v^^ings, swift shimmering things, 
Riding the flood white breasts to lave ! 
And one laughs out at the drops he flings 
Back into ocean's pulsing breast, 
(Pearls in topaz finding rest!) 
And one soars high, himself to lose, 
Into thin air his fire to fuse, 
While above the bright throng's playing 
Pales the East and glows the West. 
Dancing ocean 'neath them staying 
Myriad creatures for their quest! 
And the music of their winging ! — 
Wondrous soft like mystic playing 
Of a mind, or far stars singing. 
Maddest joy incarnate they! 
Soaring high o'er purple ocean. 
Finding ecstacy in motion. 
Wheeling, dipping, diving, — nay. 
Such a rhythmic sweet commotion 
Stirs forever in their play, 
That I fain would bide forever 
Gazing on their revelry ! 



28 



AYAH-NAH 

(J Gay Head Indian Myth) 

Along the sea, against the sky 
The brown path runs beneath the sun, 
Beneath the dusk and the stars; 
But a mist creeps up and blots the bars 
Of gold and red where day is done 
When sea-gulls call and curlews cry. 

Along the path, against the sky. 
Whom do I see, when day is done. 
Carrying nets and fishing rods? 
Along the path she glides, nor plods, 
Into the mist that blots the sun, 
Into the mist she seems to fly. 

Into the mist she fades away, 
The creeping mist that blots the sun, 
The rising mist that veils the stars. 
She glides and fades. The golden bars 
Shine again where day is done 
Out shine the stars at close of day. 

Along the sea, against the sky, 
Saw ye a form that seemed to float, 
To float on the path so brown. 
Just as the sun was sinking down, 
To float, then dwindle to a moat, 
And fade away before your eye? 



29 



Along the sea, against the sky, ' 

Ayah-Nah is wont to go 
Carrying fish and nets and such, — 
You may reach, you may not touch 
Ayah-Nah as to and fro 
She passes slow but seems to fly. 

Along the sea, beneath the sky. 
The breakers roll with crashing sound 
But Ayah-Nah will speak no word, 
Tho' all have seen, no one has heard 
Old Ayah-Nah, as o'er the ground 
She passes slow and seems to fly. 

Along the sea, against the sky 
Ayah-Nah and creeping mist 
Come and go. They float on air 
Then fade away. Ah, search ye there 
To find some maid by lover kissed, — 
For this old Ayah passeth by. 



30 



THE SOUTH SHORE SEA 

Thalatta, Thalatta, purple and green, 

Oh sea, with thy shimmering, glancing sheen. 

And thy sand-dunes heaped along the rim 

Of the south shore beach where swallows skim, 

Where smoke from Moshup's pipe is seen 

Circling high into distance dim, — 

Thalatta, Thalatta, silver thy sheen ! 

Thalatta, Thalatta, sacred thy shore 
To Moshup the prophet wise, before 
The red man came to Aquinnah-land, 
Moshup the prophet sat and scanned 
Thy wondrous waters deep. Of yore 
He sat and smoked, vast labors planned, 
Thalatta, Thalatta, upon thy shore. 

Thalatta, Thalatta, Ol' Squant is there ; 
And her hair floats out on the autumn air, — 
or Squant, the mighty Moshup's squaw, 
She draws her hair as a veil of awe 
Over her face for sight too fair, 
(That face no one save Moshup saw) 
Thalatta, Thalatta, neath Ol' Squant's hair. 

Thalatta, Thalatta, shimmering sheen, 

On thy shore sits nature's marvellous queen, 

Veiled in mystery, Ol' Squant's hair, 

Floating soft in the autumn air, 

A dusky, fine, effectual screen 

Between our eyes and her face so fair, — 

Thalatta, Thalatta, purple and green! 



31 



Thalatta, Thalatta, the heart of thee 
Beats for Ol' Squant, the wonderful she 
The queen of nature, so vast and grand 
Who sits on thy shore mid shifting sand, 
Tossing her hair in the air so free, 
Silently brooding the life of the land, — 
Thalatta, Thalatta, she broodeth thee! 

Thalatta, Thalatta, this story old 

Still to the children of men is told 

Of Moshup the great, Ol' Squant, his wife, 

Living before and after this life, 

Planning in beauty all earth to mold 

And thee, with thy multitudinous life, 

Thalatta, Thalatta, in her hair to fold. 



32 



MUTTER-SEELEN-ALLEIN 

{On the hearth of the old Tilman house.) 

On the dead home-hearth I sit 

While the embers fall away 

Into phantoms: — formless, gray 

Ghosts of by-gone fires lit 

Here by mother when her heart was gay. 

By my mother's hearth I dream 

Of her life e'er I was born, 

Of her life now I'm forlorn. 

Searching blindly for a gleam, — 

Gleam of hope to see her some sweet morn! 

Here my mother stood a bride 

Tiptoeing to womanhood. 

Reaching still for higher good, 

Love and service all her pride, 

Here she stood, her husband at her side. 

Ah, the red gold of her hair 

Shining in the firelight! 

Then, (it was their bridal night,) 

He and she sat in the flare 

Of their youthful hopes and dreams so fair. 

Love with service, toil with tears 

Mother gave, while with the sea 

Father battled valiantly: — 

Oh, the labor, faith and fears 

Wrought and suffered here throughout the years ! 



33 



Here have toiled her loving hands, — 
Underneath the sod they lie ! 
That such lovely things could die 
Binds my heart v^ith icy bands, 
Oh, my mother, far in after-lands! 

Cold and very comfortless 

Is my mother's hearth tonight, — 

Weird the flickering fire-light; 

And the dead bricks motionless 

Chill my heart to utter lonesomeness. 

Listen, tho', within the gloom, 

Hovering about my head. 

Hear I voices of the dead 

Bringing sw^eetness as a bloom 

Of youthful life v^^ithin the dead-home room. 

All the chill has passed away 

For I feel her love unfold 

Springing out of embers old 

Coming to my heart to stay. 

My mother's love, — forever and a day! 

With my mother's soul alone 

Sit I by the embers glow, 

I will fan them, — make them grow 

Into ruddy flames, — atone 

For my doubt, and oh, my doubt has flown! 

Glor'ously the flames leap up, — 
Resurrection flames of love, 
Incense, floating far above, 
For my mother's loving cup 
She has held again for me to sup. 
34 



Envoy 

Here beneath her hearth-stone's flare 
Mother s spirit, sweet and rare, 
iJideth still her child to cherish 
Lest my soul should wholly perish. 
VVith my mother's soul alone 
May I all my sin atone! 



35 



REMEMBER ME 

When I am gone, if thou must stay, 

Oh sweet my heart, I would not have thee griev- 
ing, 
But, oh, remember me each day, 

Morning, noon and evening! 

Let the morning bring a thought, 

Sweet thought, joy-thought, oh so gently weaving 
Sense of me full tersely wrought 

Into all thy being. 

Let the noon-tide bring to thee 

Strong thought, power-thought, good for all 
achieving, — 
Mayhap our Lord will let me be 

Help for thy relieving. 

And at evening when the shade, 

Oh sweet my heart, falls aslant thy dreaming, 
May my love which cannot fade 

Still thy spirit's grieving. 



36 



HEART'S-HOMING 

All the tender evening, when the sun has set, 
Crescent moon low hanging in the west, 
Cadences of vespers sparrows sounding yet, 
(Each one singing near his own dear nest,) 
Purple mist low creeping, laden with the scent 
Of the blooming fruit-boughs, — all is blent, — 
Sight and sound and all things lovely are for me 
One sweet voice, beloved, bringing thoughts of thee. 

Down below the wooded bank where triliums 
blow. 
Falling waters gurgle as they flow. 
Happy waters, flowing swiftly out to sea, 
Flowing to the ocean, and to thee! 
Whip-poor-will is calling, Pewee wakes to sing, — 
(Life is quick and stirring in the spring!) 
But the only voice that soundeth glad to me 
Is the falling waters' flowing off to thee. 

Off across the meadow, clover tops are green 
Till the dog-wood bushes make a screen. 
See their moons of blossoms, how the star-light's 

gleam 
Nestles in their whiteness like a dream ! 
There amid their branches, perching near his nest, 
Cardinal is sleeping, sweet his rest! 
Night has hushed his singing, but the mother heart 
Of his mate is singing, — singing in the dark. 



37 



Orpheus' lyre above me sings a song of light. 
(Crescent moon has left us and the night 
Reigns supreme.) Far across the ocean bright 
Vega, star of hope, may reach thy sight. 
Ah, the brook Is happy, happy Vega too ! 
Both are singing joyful songs and true. 
Both are knowing of the sea and both of thee. 
Both are singing to my heart one melody! 

Thus my fancy wanders, led by love of thee, 
Over field and forest, starry sky and sea. 
In those far-off countries, full of things to know. 
Hast thou thought, beloved, "Now the trillums 

blow?" 
Dost thou miss the fragrance of the apple trees? 
And the soughing of their branches In the breeze? 
Hearest thou the waters, flowing swift to sea. 
Telling thee of home, beloved, and of me? 



38 



THE RIVER HeAS IN WINTER 

Thou art the sunshine on yon mountain peak 
And I the stream below. 

Flow, waters, flow, 

Leap to the glow and flow! 

Thou wottest naught of me sunk here so deep. 
Nor hast thou thought to seek 
A thing so low. 

Flow, waters, flow. 

Leap to the glow and flow! 

The ice which glistens on yon mighty peak 
Is cold and dead but red 
In thy bright glow. 

Flow, waters, flow. 

Leap to the glow and flow! 

Its mirror shines into my rocky bed 

And red my waters flow : 

Reflected glow 

Of thy bright glance has made them so. 
Flow, waters, flow, 
Leap to the gleam and glow! 

My heart has caught the glory of thy smile; 

And thou, absorbed meanwhile 

In high behest, 

Hast heedlessly my rushing waters blessed, 

Hast glorified their deep unrest. 

As on they flow. 

Glow, spirit, glow, 

Leap to thy fate and glow! 
In the gorge. 

Troumouse, Jan. I, 19 12. 
39 



GOOD-BYE 

Over the misty sea, 

Under the sky, 
Sails one so dear to me! 

Sweet, gpod bye. 

Saih'ng away from me, 

Into the light, 
Wonderful things to see! 

Love, good night. 

Cleaving the wine-dark sea. 

Ship of steel, 
Under the stars sails he. 

Sharp the keel ! 

Here on the shore with mc, 

Starless night! 
Forth on the vasty sea 

All my light ! 

God of the mighty deep, 

Guard his weal! 
I pray thee safely keep 

His so leal! 



40 



IN THE PURPLE EVENING 

In the singing evening 

He came to me, 

In the glowing evening 

Down beside the sea. 

Then for one brief moment 

Earth and sky stood still, 

One transcendent moment. 

While his look did thrill 

All through and through me! — 

In the purple evening 

Down beside the sea. 



41 



DAWN 

The night is fair but o'er the lea 
Zephyr hints of dawn to be, 
Come, my love, oh come with me 
Under the sky e'er starlight flee. 

See, on high bright Sirius gleams 
Deep in the blue of night. He seems 
Glorious as were our dreams, — 
Rainbow colors In their beams. 

Soon he will fade in daylight clear, 
Lost as all our dreams so dear, 
Shamed in the prose of mid-day drear: — 
But, love, next night he will shine out clear! 

And, oh, our dreams will return anew. 
Bright as ever and more than true, — 
They'll brighten our lives all through and through. 
Sunk now in sorrow like night's deep blue : 

Ah, see! he is gone, — is faded quite, 
Our star in the young dawn's pearly light. 
Good bye, oh Sirius, another night 
We'll watch out here for your beams so bright. 

See, love, yon gold that heralds morn 
God conceived e'er yet were born 
Stars: — or dreams were yet forlorn, 
Or hope turned cold in daylight's scorn; 



42 



And oh, dear love, our life shall be 
Once more beautiful and free, 
Glad my word shall ring to thee 
And glad thine answer back to me ; 

For God who loveth, e'er fulfilleth. 
God, who in our hearts instilleth 
Visions bright, will make them true. 
Bring them, all the darkness through, 
Into perfectness of beauty. 



43 



SECURITY 

Deep is the sea and wide, — 
So is thy soul. 
Deeps of the sea abide 
While tempests roll. 

Down in the heart of thee, 
Under the tides, 
There thy dear love for me 
Safely abides. 

Never am I afraid, — 
Calm is my soul 
While in thy depths 'tis stayed, 
Tho' torrents roll. 

Hail all ye winds that blow, 
Futile are ye 
For in still depths below. 
Love shelters me. 

Winter-bound tho' I be 
Waves mountain high. 
Sweet is the storm to me 
Love being nigh. 

Tempest or quiet sea. 
Love let us spend 
Life; and together be 
Bound till the end. 



44 



EBB-TIDE 

The tide is out, the sands are dry, 
The sun has left the brazen sky, 
Upon the waves the white gulls lie, 
Dreamy and still, too faint to fly, 
The air breathes not e'en with a sigh; 
And oh, my heart it fain would die, 
Its hope is dead that ran so high, 
Its song is turned to moaning. 

The tide is out, the aching sands 
Sea-ward stretch their parching hands. 
Swallows skim in scattered bands, 
Away from desolated lands 
They seek afar what life demands; 
And oh, my heart, I fain would fly. 
Dead is my hope that once ran high. 
My music is but moaning. 

Oh tide, wilt e'er again turn home, 
With breezes lashing up to foam 
The dead ebb-waters? 
Will hope e'er come again to me? 
Will life once more be glad and free? 
Wilt one day cease, oh heart, thy moaning? 



45 



AND GOD FLUNG OUT HIS WORD TO 
ME 

And God flung out His word to me, 
"My child, whate'er betideth thee 
Let love fore'er abide with thee 
Suffer, strive and w^ait; 
For love within thy heart shall be 
A spring of life eternally, 
Conqueror of fate." 



46 



SAILING 

Oh the night it is dying, 
Day-dawn is near, 
Farewell to bed-lying, 
We'll away on the mere 
For the glad tide is swelling! 

To the winds of day-dawning 
Our sails we will spread, 
On the wings of delight 
Our bark is sped. 
While the still tide is swelling! 

Oh the air is opaline 
O'er wine-dark seas, 
Where they scatter pearls 
To the waking breeze; 
And the mad tide is swelling. 

To the land of fulfilling 
Our way we will take, 
At the font of adventure 
Our thirst we will slake 
While the full tide is swelling! 

To the keel of our bark 
I whisper low. 
To our sails and tiller, 
*'Be swift to go, — 
(For the deep tide is swelling) 



47 



To the Isles of sweet living 
Where pain is dead, 
To the strand of delight 
Where joy is fed 
On the tide's high swelling." 

Oh high tide and still, 
Our hopes wilt fill? 
Wilt speed our going 
Thou tide, in thy deep, mysterious flowing? 



48 



LITTLE DAUGHTER 

Lily white, 
Rosy red, 
Ringlets bright 
On her head; 
Busy quite 
Till the night 
Asking questions 
With delight. 
Feet to patter, 
Tongue to chatter, 
At her play 
All the day. 
Laughter ringing 

gay! 
Arms that fold me, 
Looks that hold me, 
Love to mold me. 
Into a father 

quite ! 
Lily white, 
Rosy red, 
Blessings light 
On thy head! 
Tiny mite 
Of delight 
Wield thy own sweet 

sway! 



49 



EVERYBODY'S SONG 

The stars are singing in the sky, 

The nightingale below, 
The brook is singing at my feet 

Where yellow cowslips grow. 

The mind song fills the arching sky. 
Great heart songs thrill the air. 

And many a tender home song 
Sings close to hearth-fire's flare. 

So every little child of us 

Should sing with main and might 
The special song that's given him, — 

Let's all sing true and right. 



50 



BIDE A WEE THY SPIRIT'S WAKING 

My little one, I hold thee here 
On my breast, on my breast. 

To my heart thy heart is beating 
Without rest, without rest! 

Dainty petals are thy fingers 
Sweetly prest on my breast. 

With my soul thy soul is pleading 
Unexprest, unexprest! 

Life to thee my breast is giving 
Oh my best, sleep and rest! 

Do not plead for spirit's waking, — 
Only rest on my breast. 

I would give thee all thy yearning, 
All thy quest, — still be blest! — 

Light thy spirit, fan its burning, 
Oh my blest, for thy best. 

Just tonight I fain would keep thee 
Closely pressed to my breast. 

Bide a wee thy spirit's waking, 
Sweetest, best, stay and rest! 



51 



A CHILD'S LOOK INTO LIFE 

Wonder deep of sky so blue, 

Mysteries of earth, 
Marvels day and night all through. 

Bringing into birth 
Glories sweet of human living; 

Poignancies of mirth 
Changing sw^ift to frantic sorrow 

For a dream's poor worth: — 

Beckoning of far hills blue 

Into Fairyland, 
Building cities great and new. 

On the white sea sand. 
Dreaming of some glory fine, 

On the misty strand 
Marked by dim horizon line. 

Known as Grown-up-land: — 

Swifter than kaleidoscope 

Change his scenes forever. 
Pulsing heart and thirsty spirit 

Biding quiet never. 
Dwelling e'er in heaven or near it 

Let him still persevere. 
Treading fast the onward way, 

Forward pressing ever. 



52 



A LETTER 

All the paths were lonely 
Every nook was sad, 

Now the day is lovely 
And my heart is glad, 

Just because a letter 

Came from you, my dear. 

Saying in a day or two. 
You'll be with me here. 

All the paths are ringing 

Now with thoughts of thee, 

Every bird is singing, 

"Soon he'll be with me!" 

So my heart is merry 

That before w^as sad 
And the day is very, 

Very bright and glad! 



53 



CALL TO THE RAIN 

Dear little raindrops 

Up in the sky, 
In your cloud-carriage 

Floating so high, 
Come to my babies 

Planted so deep 
Down in the brown earth, — 

Soundly they sleep! 

Come, little raindrops. 

Out of the sky, 
Come to my babies, 

Fly hither, fly! 
Sunbeams have wakened them 

Warm and so dry! 
Longing for raindrops 

Riding up high. 

In your dirigible 

Up in the sky 
Hear you my babies? 

Hear how they cry! 
Sunbeams who wakened them 

Drank all the dew 
Now my seed-babies 

Are crying for you. 



54 



Dear little raindrops, 

Turn on the screw 
Of your bold flyer, 

We're waiting for you. 
All my wee babies. 

Seeds not a few, 
Down in the brown earth, 

Hidden from view. 

Waiting, dear raindrops, 

Waiting for you. 
Sunbeams who wakened them 

Drank up their dew, — 
Oh my poor babies ! 

Many, not few! 
Hurry, dear raindrops, 
We're waiting for you. 



55 



THE REEDS OF LA CRAU 

Great Pan is dead? Ah no, ah no! 
He liveth still and pipes also 
Afar on the desolate plains of La Crau. 
He pipes and plays the whole day through 
Away on the plains of La Crau, heigh-ho! 
'Tis Pan that pipes, I know, I know! 
He plays on the reeds, the reeds of La Crau. 

Where is La Crau where Pan doth play? 
You go on the train, then ride all day 
In a wonderful, tumble-down one-horse-shay. 
So come with me and I'll lead you true 
Away to the plains of La Crau, heigh-ho! 
'Tis Pan that pipes, I know, I know! 
He plays on the reeds, the reeds of La Crau! 

But first we must cross the ocean vast. 
Great Heracles' gates eft-soon are past, 
We land on Francia's strand at last. 
Where oui is we and trou is true. 
'Tis the way to the plains of La Crau, heigh-ho! 
'Tis Pan that pipes, I know, I know! 
He plays on the reeds, the reeds of La Crau. 

Marseille's the town, I tell you true. 
Where we take the train that takes us through, — 
(Poky its pace, asleep its crew!) 
But, bit by bit, I'll win with you 
Away to the plains of La Crau, heigh-ho! 
'Tis Pan that pipes, I know, I know! 
He plays on the reeds, the reeds of La Crau. 



56 



The wonderful, tumble-down one-horse-shay 
Is waiting there in colors gay 
To take us two to the land where you 
bhall hear great Pan the long day through 
-Piping away on the reeds of La Crau 
Tis Pan that pipes, I know you'll know 
1 IS Pan who plays on the reeds of La Crau ! 



57 



THE PINCH 

I love the sky, 
I love the sea, 
I love the birds 
And every tree; 
I love the grass, 
The little brook, 
The dainty flowers 
Where e'er you look; 
I love to play. 
To laugh and sing, — 
I think I love 'most everything 

I love the crowds 
That come and go, 
As to and fro 
They pass along, 
Some with a song, 
Some with a blow, — 
And some you know 
But mostly not, — 
They're such a lot! 
And (oh, it's fun!) 
I think I love 'most everyone. 



58 



I love to dance, 
I love to sing, 
I love to w^alk, — 
I love to spring 
Along the beech, 
Ay, mile on mile. 
And onward still! 
I love a pile 
Of things to fill 
My day, my cup, — 
I'd like to fill my life all up. 

I love a nook, 
A safe retreat, 
A many a book. 
Then curl my feet 
And let my brains 
Stretch out a bit, — 
Indulge in strains 
Of mother wit, — 
To find a clue 
And follow true, — 
Ah, that's a dandy thing to do ! 

But ah, the pinch! 
And where I flinch. 
And wear my flesh 
Quite to the bone. 
And moan and groan 
Each day a-fresh, — 
'Tis such a mesh 
I'm caught in fast. 
Ay, first and last! 
To turn a penny 
I cannot, any ! Not a penny ! 

59 



A BALLADE OF THINGS GONE BYE 

{After Frangois Villon) 

Tell me where, ay, where are stayed 
The powder and patch my grandam wore? 
Where the hoops and stiff brocade? 
The dainty kerchief folded o'er 
Where are the skirts, ten yards or more, — 
For less would bring my grandam's scorn, — 
Where are the things they wore of yore? 
But where are the dews of yester-morn? 

Where is that graceful courtesy dip? 
Where the stately minuet? 
The dances square they used to trip, 
Virginia reel and lancers set, 
And all that old-time etiquette 
That passed so long e'er I was born? 
Oh, where's the ball-room holds them yet? 
But where are the dews of yester-morn? 

Where are those quaint and stately ways 
Our forebears practiced long ago? 
Those grains of sand of former days 
So pure and perfect, running slow, 
Those sifting sands of life that flow 
Ever anew in changing form, 
Where are they now? For answer, lo, 
Say where are the dews of yester-morn? 

My friend, seek not to know today. 
Seek not this thing to know, I warn. 
But hold in mind this thing I say. 
Where are the dews of yester-morn? 
60 



LONG AGO 

I was standing in the garden, 

(This was eons long ago) 
Bloss'ming trees were all about me, 

Birds were flitting to and fro, 
Violets, narcissus, lilies 

Filled the air with sw^et perfume,- 
Just the time it was for loving, 

Tho' such ages long ago ! 

I was list'ning to the music 

On that day so long ago. 
Singing birds were quite ecstatic 

Flitting restless to and fro 
All at once I heard a footstep, 

(Hark, I hear its echo now!) 
He is coming nearer, closer, 

Breathing now upon my brow ! 

Oh, I dared not lift my eyelids 

On that day so long gone bye! 
God ! the pain to be unloving 

When great Love is standing nigh! 
Then he knelt and gently pleaded, 

Pleaded there in accents low 
All beneath the sky of springtime 

In the garden, long ago. 



6i 



I was standing in the garden, ' 

Ages, — eons long ago. 
Underneath the birds and blossoms, 

One before me bending low, — 
In my heart is still the echo 

Of his pleading sweet and low, — 
'Twas too early in the springtime 

For an autumn flower to blow! 



62 



RAINBOW GOLD 

When all the way has slipped behind mc, 
And I find the rainbow gold, 

Mother will be there to meet me 
With the look I knew of old. 

She will greet me with her smiling 
(Mother-smiles I knew of old) 

She will teach me all the secrets 
Of my rainbow gold. 

Oh my mother, how thy spirit 

Shineth through the rainbow gold! 

Showing all the mystic meaning 
Of the story told of old! 



63 



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